


This Mess We're In

by ninhursag



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Feelings, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Maria and Alex figure it out, Michael Guerin Deserves Nice Things, Multi, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-10-01 21:37:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20413045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninhursag/pseuds/ninhursag
Summary: While Michael and Liz try to save Max, Alex and Maria take care of Michael.Michael doesn't know if they talked to each other later, made some agreement but it feels like they did. He only knows that they never come by at the same time, not at first, not until they do. And in the times they're around each other, they're easy in each other's company. Playful, gentle. Only a little edge of bitterness adding sting to their banter.





	This Mess We're In

**Author's Note:**

> No particular warnings. Some polyamory negotiatons clearly happened off screen without Michael's participation but he has zero problems with that.

They take turns with him after everything, after Max, after the lies, after he unravels in front of them both on the stupid, sticky too familiar floor of the Pony, drunk and sobbing, begging for what he knows he doesn't deserve and won't get. 

"It's ok," Alex whispers then, strong, careful hand on his shoulder.

And Maria touches his other shoulder, gentle, and brings him water and calls him a taxi, a luxury he can't afford.

Michael doesn't know if they talked to each other later, made some agreement but it feels like they did. He only knows that they never come by at the same time, not at first, not until they do. And in the times they're around each other, they're easy in each other's company. Playful, gentle. Only a little edge of bitterness adding sting to their banter.

Alex on a Monday, tired, in leather and tight jeans, no crutch even though his body must be sore.

Alex, sitting on his bed, naked and glowing in the dull light, like he's supposed to be there.

On Tuesday, Michael and Liz work in the lab, staying up late to run some data down to it's conclusion and she touches his shoulder. He nods, like he's reassuring her.

Maria on Wednesday, humming a tune under her breath with dark circles under her eyes.

She's got a long, billowy skirt with no underwear on and she rides him in it, make up perfect and not a stitch undone while he's bare under her and shaken.

On Thursday, he has drinks with Isobel. Pure acetone and vodka, until neither of them remembers their brother is gone.

The big house Isobel built with Noah is dirty, askew. The wall hangings are torn.

Alex on Friday, carrying an old guitar. Michael plays for him for a little bit, while Alex sits so close, knee to knee.

"You don't have to be nice to me," Michael whispers, an echo of the boy he'd been.

"It's ok," Alex tells him. "I have an ulterior motive."

And he kisses him, like Michael belongs to him.

On the weekend, Maria texts him. Come over.

And Alex is there, making himself a drink at her kitchen counter when Michael comes inside.

They don't ask him, no words. He takes what they give him, doesn't dare question it, as if words might make it disappear. Popping a soap bubble.

They take turns with him, on Maria's bed, the scent of her perfume and nailpolish. 

Maria rides him hard, fingernails leaving bright red scratches on his skin. Alex takes him down easily after she slides off. Just pulls up his knees, legs, and fucks him open face to face. No fingers, just condom and lube, while Michael's relaxed and still not down from his own orgasm.

It burns through him, the deep sensation of Alex's dick, breaching him, taking what's his while he still feels the dull throb of Maria's nails. The oversensitive not quite pain of his orgasm.

He doesn't want to go home after that, so he goes to the lab and does follow up work until he falls asleep in a chair. He wakes up with a blanket over him and Liz reviewing his notes and nodding thoughtfully.

"We'll get him back," she tells him.

Michael nods at her. "I know."

Then Kyle Valenti comes in with coffee and a too gentle smile. Michael's mellow mood skitters off but he lets it go.

On Monday, Alex takes him out of the lab by force and bullies him into the shower and a nonliquid dinner.

In retaliation, he fucks Alex with his powers. They're spilling out of him, uncontained, the experiments they're doing unraveling them. And Alex's cocky smile and buttoned up shirt fall victim.

His Alex, stripped bare and defenseless by alien strength while Michael sits in the chair. Helpless against the touch that he can't squirm away from, can't deny, that gives him everything before he can ask for it. Michael strokes himself off in time, legs sprawled open and hand tight around his own cock.

On Tuesday he and Isobel and Rosa smash all of Isobel's old wedding china and his head hurts and his eyes hurt and his sister at his side hurts and he can't see the edges of it, it won't stop.

But Rosa is there, wary, but wondering. Human and young and hopeful.

"Why are you here?" Isobel asks her. "You should hate me."

"He did it, not you. He did it to both of us," Rosa tells her. And Isobel doesn't nod but she listens.

On Wednesday Maria fucks him with a strap on. She's smiling, fingers digging into his skin while he gasps and gasps and pushes into it. She puts a hand on his hip, holding him there, and he whines and arches and begs for her mercy.

On Thursday, he watches Liz and Kyle talk from across the lab, their dark heads bent together, their voices thick with exhaustion. He hears the echo of Max's name.

His brother, his stupid dead not dead brother, is so much more loved than he knows.

On Friday, Alex brings over shitty movies and worse pizza. Zombies, Godzilla, car chases, but no aliens.

Michael blows him in the middle of a ravening zombie horde getting run over by a tank. Michael likes it on his knees in front of Alex, steady there. His mouth is still grease shiny and his body aches where it's pressed to the floor.

Alex makes a slow, defeated sound, and tangles his hands in the curls of Michael's hair.

Over the weekend they lay down together on the bed of his truck, out in the desert. The stars are infinite and bright and both of them hold his hand.

"Can we keep doing this?" Michael asks, soft, wary.

Maria smiles and strokes his cheek. And Alex just laughs and leans over and kisses him, like he doesn't know how to stop anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Feelings? Thoughts?
> 
> You can also find me as ninhursag at dreamwidth https://ninhursag.dreamwidth.org or ninswhimsy on Tumblr


End file.
